


Babysitter Needed for one Jack Frost

by Yevynaea



Series: Misadventures in Magic (with Jamie Bennett and Co.) [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, and maybe Pitch but the guardians don't want him anywhere near Jack, kid!jack, kind of a crack fic but who cares, no one knows what to do except Jamie, too bad Jack likes him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevynaea/pseuds/Yevynaea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack requires a babysitter until the Guardians can figure out how to get him back to his normal self.<br/>Jack wants Pitch to be his babysitter; the Guardians will have NONE OF THAT.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Jack had learned the hard way not to annoy a coven of witches. He had seen them near Stonehenge, and after a bit of conversation Jack may or may not have made a joke about their spells not being “real magic”. Hey, not his fault witches were all hot-tempered.

            Now he had a terrible migraine, and had barely managed to make it back across the ocean from England before he practically dropped out of the sky, somewhere in the woods. Probably Canada, he thought, but it hardly seemed to matter what with the throbbing pain in his head. Jack didn’t try to fight the sudden weariness that washed over him while he lay in the snow, after all, at least it would let him get away from his headache for a few hours. Yawning, Jack rolled over, burrowing himself underneath the powdery snow as if it were a blanket and promptly slipping into a dreamless slumber.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            “…No, Sandy, I haven’t seen him.”

 

            “Me either, mate. You sure he’s not just off somewhere causing trouble like always?”

 

            “…Alright. I’ll send some fairies out to look for him if you’re still worried. But you know Jack’s never in one place for too long.”

 

            “…I need to get back to the Warren, but if Frostbite shows up I’ll tell him you were worried, Sandy.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            Pitch knew something was worrying the Guardians, as well as the children of Burgess. He could feel their fear, washing through them like waves and giving him strength he hadn’t felt since his defeat six years ago. From what Pitch could gather, they hadn’t seen Jack in over two weeks, which considering how often he liked to bug them was a long time. And unfortunately for Pitch, the only logical explanation that the Guardians could find was that Jack had been kidnapped by Pitch himself.

            Hence, four angry Guardians demanding that he tell them where Jack was, while Pitch hissed and rubbed the bump on the back of his head, trying to prop himself up on his elbows so that he at least wouldn’t be on his back in the snow.

            “So? Where is he?” Demanded Bunny angrily, and Pitch glared at the rabbit.

            “I haven’t the slightest idea.” He answered, standing up with another small hiss of pain.

            “What do you mean you do not know?” North asked incredulously. “We have searched whole globe for Jack. Only explanation is Jack is with you.”

            “Maybe he’s avoiding you.” Pitch said bitterly. “If you’re always this quick to jump to conclusions, then I don’t blame him.”

            The Sandman formed a series of pictures with his sand, and Pitch watched carefully before a scowl twisted across his features.

            “No, Sanderson, like I’ve been trying to tell you, I have _not_ _seen_ _Jack._ ” The Nightmare King snarled.

            “Then, if you don’t have Jack,” Tooth looked to her friends worriedly, “Then where is he?”

            “I do not know.” North said dejectedly. Pitch turned on his heel and prepared to walk away, only to have a golden whip around his wrist. He glared at Sandy, who looked far too smug for Pitch’s liking. A series of dream sand images appeared around the Sandman’s head, asking Pitch to keep an eye out, which the others looked less than pleased about. Knowing he would not be allowed to leave if he refused, Pitch gritted his teeth.

            “Fine.” He growled, seething with hatred for the tiny golden man in front of him. “I will help look for Frost,” He wrenched away from Sandy’s grip and jumped into the nearest shadow before they could stop him, letting his voice surround the Guardians as he finished, “But that’s not to say I’ll be telling you if I find him.” Pitch chuckled darkly as the Guardians exchanged worried looks.

            Pitch left, letting the shadows take him away from the Guardians and back to his lair and sending out a few nightmares in search of the missing winter sprite. He wasn’t too concerned about actually doing anything to find Jack, but he knew he should have a valid excuse should Sanderson come to him about it.

            He didn’t give the issue any more thought until the next night, when he felt something catch in his mind; one of the nightmares was trying to pull him to it. Reluctantly, Pitch exited the lair, finding that he was somewhere very cold and with much-too-plentiful snow to reflect the bright moonbeams back up at him. Blinking against the sudden light, Pitch’s gaze fell on the nightmare, which was standing atop a large pile of snow. One of many, indistinguishable from any of the other multiple snowdrifts around it, and yet the nightmare was whinnying impatiently, as if it could smell its next meal under the snow. Pitch swiped a bit of snow away with one foot, then a bit more, finding nothing under the top layers of snowflakes. He looked at the nightmare dubiously, but it whinnied again, insistent.

            Sighing dramatically, Pitch knelt down, swiping away more snow with his hands until he saw a piece of wood sticking out of the icy powder. Pitch recognized Jack’s staff immediately and began to move more snow until he had completely uncovered the winter sprite, who was fast asleep and curled in on himself, smiling as if nothing was wrong. But something was very wrong.

Frowning in bewilderment, Pitch looked Jack up and down, then scooped the boy into his arms and melted back into what tiny shadows there were, bringing Jack with him. He laid Jack on the ground, still frowning, and watched the smaller spirit sleep, ignoring the nagging thoughts that told him to hand Jack over to the Guardians, as well as the ones that told him to give the sleeping boy back to the snow. Under most other circumstances Pitch wouldn’t have even had those thoughts, would have instead just put Jack in a cage and been done with it. But looking at the small sprite now, Pitch doubted. He doubted himself just enough that giving Jack to the Guardians almost became a liable option. And Pitch hated himself for that.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

The boy didn’t wake up for several more hours, and when he did he woke up slowly, yawning and rolling over before sitting up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened them to see Pitch sitting nearby.

Pitch hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he knew that if he wasn’t close by the fearlings may try to prey on Jack while the boy slept. So the Nightmare King had formed himself an armchair and sat down, never expecting to be woken up some time later by the younger spirit. Although he would firmly deny it in times to come, Pitch startled when his weary eyes opened to find Jack staring at him, and he stood abruptly, sending the boy scurrying backwards. Jack’s staff, Pitch noted, was no longer clutched in a death grip but was lying ignored on the cavern floor.

“What are you staring at, Frost?” Pitch scowled, for the boy’s eyes still hadn’t left him.

“Fwost?” The child said questioningly, his bright blue eyes widening in curiosity. Pitch faltered. Had Jack been de-aged in both mind _and_ body? As the tiny boy— who looked no older than three or four—began to wander a few feet away, tripping over his long pant legs, looking around the lair with interest, and still paying no attention to his staff, Pitch decided the answer must be yes.

“Do you remember your name?” He asked the boy, and Jack scrunched his face up in concentration for a few moments before shaking his head. Pitch frowned again. “Your name is Jack Frost.” He told the child, who thought about the name before nodding curtly, almost as if accepting it as satisfactory.

“Jack Fwost.” He repeated. Then he continued on his self-given tour of the lair, tripping over his pants again before Pitch finally picked him up. The boy wriggled in Pitch’s grasp as the Nightmare King sat down in his shadowy armchair again, rolling up Jack’s pants and hoodie sleeves so that his limbs could move normally again. Pitch tightened Jack’s pants with a belt made of shadow, then made sure the hoodie sleeves would stay rolled before finally setting the squirming boy down.

“Do you…do you remember me?” Pitch inquired, and Jack shook his head again, although he seemed much less concerned about the lack of memory this time. “My name is Pitch.”

“Pitch.” Jack confirmed, stressing the “i”just a bit too much and making the word sound like “peach”. The Boogeyman hesitantly nodded, and Jack smiled self-satisfactorily. The white-haired toddler finally caught sight of his staff and went over to it, although it was now nearly three times his height. Jack stared at the staff, as if unsure whether he should pick it up. “Mine.” He finally decided, but instead of picking the staff up he sat himself down next to it, laying it carefully across his lap as if it were a living creature.

Pitch watched this with mild amusement, wondering what had happened to the winter sprite, and also wondering what to do about it. He didn’t have to think for long, though, because the bright yellow glow of dream sand was fast approaching through one of the dark tunnels leading off of the main cavern. Sandy emerged from the tunnel with great caution, looking around the room warily as he entered. When he caught sight of Jack, which, _of course he did,_ the Sandman’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How did you get in here?” Pitch demanded of the smaller man, but Sanderson ignored the question, charging toward Pitch angrily, through his dream sand calling Pitch a liar and all manner of other unsavory names.

“No!” Sandy stopped, blinking at the little boy in front of him, who was standing protectively in front of Pitch with his arms spread wide.

“Sanderson, I promise I am not the one who did this to him. I found him last night somewhere in Canada. Or possibly Greenland.” Pitch shrugged. Sandy still wasn’t buying it, but at least he wasn’t attacking anymore. He used a cloud of dream sand to scoop Jack into the air, and the boy gave an indignant squeak of protest.

“No, no, no!” Jack made grabby hands toward Pitch, who blinked incredulously before stepping forward and lifting Jack from the sand cloud. He almost smirked at Sandy’s discomfort, but he knew that it wouldn’t help his situation much.

Sandy made a series of images with the sand, trying to explain to Jack that they had to go find out what had happened to him, but Jack couldn’t understand. He turned to Pitch for explanation.

“First thing’s first.” Pitch said, setting Jack down, but the boy still clung to the bottom of his robe. “Jack, this is Sanderson.” At Sandy’s request, Pitch corrected, “This is Sandy.”

“Sandy.” Jack said, looking the golden man up and down almost reproachfully before sticking out one hand. “Jack Fwost.”

Sandy shook his hand, still befuddled, before beginning his explanation again, this time directing it more toward Pitch.

“Jack, Sandy wants you to go with him.” Pitch said, and Jack hugged Pitch’s leg, clinging to him so tightly Pitch wanted to reach down and rip the boy off. But he didn’t. “You need to go with Sandy.”

“No.” The boy replied petulantly, looking at Pitch like a kicked puppy when the Nightmare King carefully pried Jack off his leg.

“Yes.” Pitch said, his tone making it clear that that was the end of it. This time Jack didn’t protest when he was picked up by the dream sand, along with his staff. Jack did nothing but glare at Pitch defiantly as he was floated away.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Their first stop was North’s workshop. Sandy was let in by the yetis, who stared perplexedly at Jack for a moment before rushing off to find North himself. Jack watched the colorful wonders of North’s home pass him by as Sandy moved toward the globe room, the child’s gaze flitting from one thing to the next in rapid-fire succession.

“Sandy! Is November. Can this not wait until after Christmas?” North asked as he entered the room. But he stopped talking straight away when he saw Jack. Sandy set the boy down, and Jack proceeded to chase the closest elf. The elf ran away quickly, its bell jingling as it ran to hide in a niche in the wall. Hiding was not effective against Jack, whose tiny fingers grabbed the elf’s hat and refused to let go.

Sandy quickly explained the situation to North, who then busied himself with freeing the elf by the means of bribing Jack with cookies.

“Cookies?” Jack grinned, letting go of the elf’s hat and stepping closer to North, still unsure whether or not to take the cookie. As the elf and all his kin ran off to hide, the boy eventually decided that cookies were worth going near the big red man, so he snatched up a cookie in each hand and retreated a few steps, but then put both cookies in one hand and stuck out the other for a handshake just as he’d done with Sandy. “Jack Fwost.” He introduced himself, and North raised an eyebrow.

“I am North.” He finally said, shaking the child’s hand gingerly. As Jack nibbled on the edge of a sugar cookie while watching North warily, the Guardian of wonder simply stood and rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

“So you say he does not remember anything?” North asked Sandy, and the smaller man affirmed this with a nod of his head. “I had better call others.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie should really get paid for all the sh*t he goes through for the Guardians.  
> (Pitch just wants a friend, but say so and he'll murder you)

“Oh my goodness.” Tooth’s eyes widened when she saw Jack. Her feathers puffed out and the boy took a step back, looking nervous when the fairy zipped toward him. Bunnymund was hanging back, staring at Jack and completely unsure what to make of the situation, but Tooth flew right up to the boy and looked him up and down. Sandy and North explained what they knew of what had happened, while Jack continued to back away from Tooth. “So what do we do until we can get him back to normal?” The fairy asked North, who opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again promptly.

“I do not know.” He admitted, and Bunnymund rolled his eyes at the large man’s cluelessness. Not that he had any more idea about what to do.

“Can’t he just stay here?” Bunny asked, but North shook his head vigorously.

“He causes enough damage when he is himself. Christmas is coming up and I have no time for taking care of toddler.” North said adamantly. “And what about you, Bunny? No room in the Warren?”

Bunny bristled, shaking his head. “You’re not dumpin’ the little ankle-biter on me!” He protested. “Tooth?”

“Can he fly while he’s like this?” The fairy asked worriedly, “Because if he can’t fly it isn’t safe for him to be at the Tooth Palace.”

A golden light bulb formed above Sandy’s hair, then it swirled into an image of a familiar teenage boy. Sandy looked at the other Guardians to see what they thought of the idea, and slowly, they all nodded in agreement.

“What day is it?” Bunny asked. “Jamie might be at school.”

            “Is a Sunday. November twenty-second.” North didn’t even have to look at a calendar to answer, seeing as he’d been counting down the days to Christmas (not that he’d ever admit it).

            “Then let’s go!” Toothiana said enthusiastically, her feathers fluffing up again and startling Jack. The boy ran to hide behind Sandy, thinking that he would much rather be with Pitch, where it was quiet and no one would be staring at him strangely.

            North went to get his coat, pulling it on and grabbing a snow globe from one of the pockets. He whispered something into it and threw it on the ground, causing Jack to yelp in surprise at the sudden appearance of the portal. North jumped through without hesitation, and Tooth followed. Bunnymund grumbled something about tunnels being better, but then scrunched his eyes closed and stepped through the portal. Sandy picked up Jack with dream sand again, floating into the portal just as it began to close.

            When Jack was set on the ground again, in the backyard of the Bennett house, he plopped down in the snow and refused to get up, clinging to the dry brown grass as if his life depended on it. Tooth flitted up to Jamie’s bedroom window, peering in then tapping on the glass when she saw he was inside.

            “Tooth, I’m really busy with homework, and I’ve got a chemistry test tomorrow, and…” Jamie started as he opened the window. Tooth simply pointed down toward Jack, and Jamie opened and closed his mouth like a guppy a few times before he found words. “…And I will be down in like two seconds.”

            The seventeen year old shut the window and ran out of his room, down the stairs, and out into the backyard, without even bothering to put a jacket on. Still unsure what to say, Jamie stared at the Guardian of fun (who was no longer hugging the ground and instead trying to climb the fence) and waited for some sort of an explanation.

            Once a short explanation had been given, and certain questions asked, Jamie still couldn’t think of much to say.

            “You want me to babysit Jack.” It was not a question, but the Guardians all nodded anyway, looking sheepish at having to ask him for help with something as small as childcare. Jamie kneeled so that he was on Jack’s level, and the white-haired boy stopped scrambling up the fence, staring at Jamie like a puppy that’s unsure whether it’s going to be praised or scolded. “Do you remember me, Jack?” Jamie asked, and the toddler shook his head slowly, looking at the ground as if ashamed.

            “No.” Jack knew he should have been able to remember; he knew the boy in front of him was a friend and that Jack should have known what to say to him. But Jack couldn’t remember. Every time he thought he’d got something, the thought squirmed away from him like a bug.

            “That’s alright.” Jamie said, smiling, and Jack smiled back. “My name’s Jamie.”

            “Jamie.” Jack muttered, biting his knuckle like most children suck their thumbs, and glaring at the grass in a very focused manner. He turned the name over in his head, knowing it sounded familiar but unable to recall exactly why. It was very frustrating for the three year old, who flopped down on the grass with an exasperated huff, making Jamie laugh. The Guardians were chuckling as well, but Jack only scowled at them in irritation, for as every child knows, tantrums are a serious matter and not to be laughed at.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            Jack was seated on the edge of Jamie’s bed, swinging his feet back and forth and eating mint chocolate chip ice cream in bites too large for his tiny mouth. Trying to ignore Jack’s eyes on him, Jamie did his best to finish his homework, but was forced to stop when the little winter sprite started tugging at his shirt sleeve.

            “I wanna go ouside.” Jack pointed to the window. It was late afternoon, and the sun was just starting to go down, but it wouldn’t be dark for a good while. After the Guardians had left Jamie had given Jack the ice cream and brought him upstairs, asking Jack what the boy wanted to play and only getting small shrugs in response. Now it seemed as if Jack had decided on playing outside in the cold. _Of course._

“Okay. There’s not much snow outside right now, though.” Jamie warned. “It hasn’t snowed in a while.”

            “No snow?” Jack pressed his face up against the glass, looking down at the ground at the pitiful remains of the last snowfall. He contemplated for a moment, then turned back to Jamie and pointed outside again. “Play ouside.”

            “Okay.” Jamie stood up from his desk, closing his textbooks and leading Jack down the stairs. He pulled his coat and hat from the downstairs closet, then opened the back door and let Jack run ahead of him into the yard. The toddler ran for a pile of dirty snow, trying to form good snowballs. Evidently he didn’t like the results, because he dropped the snow without a care and headed over to Jamie’s mom’s garden instead. Jamie watched with mild amusement as Jack poked each individual flower and caused frost ferns to cover every petal. Once done with the flowers, Jack moved on to frosting the fence, drawing pictures in the icy crystals that mostly just looked like squiggles.

            “Jamie, lookit!” Jack said proudly, putting the finishing touches on a drawing that looked vaguely like a person.

            “Is that me?” Jamie smiled, and Jack nodded, a proud grin on his face. The sound of a car pulling up out front brought Jamie to the side of the house, where he could see Sophie and their mother getting out of the car. Jamie smiled at his mom as she walked by, going toward the front door to avoid having to walk around to the back. She’d been out all day, first shopping for groceries, then taking Sophie to an eye exam, and she wanted a bit of quiet so she could rest, which she informed Jamie and Sophie of as she opened the door to go inside. The Bennett kids agreed not to make too much noise.

            “I had to get reading glasses.” Sophie scrunched up her nose in distaste as she pulled a glasses case from the pocket of her pink coat.

            “Soph, come to the backyard.” Jamie motioned for his sister to follow him, and she did, stuffing the glasses case back into her jacket pocket as they stepped into the yard.

            “Is that…?” The eleven year old couldn’t bring herself to finish the question, she was giggling too much. “What on Earth happened to Jack?” She asked finally.

            “The Guardians don’t know yet. They’re trying to figure it out. But he doesn’t remember anything, so he’s basically just a normal kid until they can reverse it.”

            “And you’re babysitting in the meantime.” Sophie said, and Jamie nodded, gesturing toward Jack.

            “It’s not like we can leave him on his own like this.” The brunet nodded emphatically to where Jack was scribbling more pictures in the frost.

            “What’s this one?” Sophie went to a small picture that could have been a person or an animal. Or something in between, Jamie noted.

            “Elf.” Jack answered simply, and the Bennett kids both tiled their heads, trying to get a new angle on the picture so to see it better.

            “Oh, there it is.” Sophie said, pointing out different parts of the drawing as she elaborated, “The hat, and there’s his face, and his shoes.”

            “I see it now.” Jamie nodded, moving on the next picture. “And what’s this one, Jack?”

            “Sandy.”

            Sure enough, Jamie and his sister could see the likeness of their golden friend in the squiggling lines. Smiling brightly, Sophie sat down in the grass next to Jack. She didn’t even try to ask if Jack remembered her, instead holding out one hand for a handshake, which Jack obliged.

            “Hi, Jack. I’m Sophie.” The blonde said cheerily, and Jack smiled.

            “Hi, Sopie.” He replied just as merrily before turning his attention back to his drawing. Sophie looked over the boy’s shoulder at the drawing, her smile wavering as she motioned her brother over.

            “What’s this one of, Jack?” Jamie asked, already knowing the answer as he watched Jack put the details on the latest drawing. The tiny sprite took note of the worry in his friend’s voice and seemed unsure whether he should answer. Then he looked at his feet and mumbled something that sounded like ‘peach’.

            “What?” Sophie leaned closer so to hear Jack better and he glanced up at her before mumbling again. This time Sophie heard the answer more clearly, nodding discreetly at Jamie, who sighed.

            “This is Pitch?” He asked about the picture, and Jack nodded.

            “It’s a good drawing, you have to admit.” Sophie giggled, winking at Jack. “You got his nose just right.”

            The drawing’s nose was comically large, and Jack started giggling too. Jamie smiled, but he still felt a twinge of uncertainty in the back of his mind. The Guardians hadn’t said anything about Pitch. Only that Jack had no memory and needed to be cared for until it could be fixed. Had the Nightmare King done this? Jamie felt just the tiniest flitter of fear at the thought of Pitch being back in the game, but when he caught Sophie staring at him worriedly he waved her off, smiling brightly and pushing the fear away.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            “Please, you have to take him today! Sophie and I both have school.” Jamie said adamantly as he tried to zip up his coat with one hand.

            “And so do I!” Pippa said through the phone. “Just because my classes are online doesn’t mean I can ignore them.”

            “Oh, come on. I can’t get ahold of the Guardians-- not that they’d take him anyway.” Jamie thought aloud. “Anyway, Pippa, you’re the only person who’s home and can take care of him.”

            “I’m sorry Jamie, but I can’t babysit an invisible toddler with my mom around the house.” Pippa said apologetically. Jamie had to admit she had a point; he’d had a hell of a time keeping Jack entertained the previous evening, what with his mom in the house and wanting Sophie and Jamie both to help with dinner.

            “Fine.” Jamie conceded, sighing in resignation. “See you later, Pippa.”

            “Good luck!” His friend said before hanging up, and Jamie ran a hand through his hair, highly doubting his luck would be ‘good’.

            “Still having trouble?” Sophie asked, walking up with Jack in tow.

            “No one can take him.” Jamie groaned. “We might just have to put some TV on in my room and hope Mom leaves it alone.”

            “We could stay home.” Sophie suggested slyly, but Jamie shot her a good natured glare.

            “No.” He said, and she scowled briefly at her brother before turning to Jack.

            “Come on, Jack.” Sophie smiled at the little boy. “Let’s go find something you can watch.”

            Jack nodded, not too enthusiastic about being cooped up indoors without Jamie or Sophie, but he followed the girl upstairs just the same. Soon Jamie heard the TV click on, and his sister came bounding down the stairs alone while Jack stayed closed in Jamie’s room watching cartoons.

            “Ready to go?” Sophie asked cheerfully.

            “Yeah, let’s go.” Sophie ran out the door, but Jamie had to stop to grab his car keys before they could leave. He ran to where they were hanging from a nail on the kitchen wall, then felt a cold prickle at the back of his neck and whirled around, facing the empty kitchen and fully expecting some malicious specter to jump out at him. Probably Pitch.

            After a tense moment of quiet, Jamie turned back to grab his keys, clutching them in his fist and bringing them down from the wall with a shake of his head.

            _You’re just imagining things._ He scolded himself. _There’s no way Pitch would come to your house._

“Oh, isn’t there?” Jamie yelped and spun around again at the sound of the Nightmare King’s voice, finding Pitch smirking at him from where the spirit was seated across the room, leaning back in an armchair and making himself perfectly at home. Jamie gritted his teeth angrily, fighting back the fear that was poking at him, trying to worm its way into his head.

            “What do you want?” He snapped, already thinking he knew the answer, and Pitch raised one non-existent eyebrow.

            “I was going to offer to take care of young Jack while you’re out. But if you’re going to be snippy about it…” Pitch started to fade away into shadow, but against his better judgment Jamie reached out toward the Boogeyman.

            “Wait!” Pitch solidified again, waiting for Jamie to speak with just the tiniest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “What did you say you were doing here?”

            “You heard me.” Pitch said, standing and starting toward Jamie in one fluid motion. “I will stay here and look after Jack while you’re in class. Deal?”

            “Why would I trust you not to kidnap him?” Jamie inquired dubiously, “Or worse?”

            “What if I give my word not to harm Jack or leave your house?”

            “Forgive me if a promise from _you_ isn’t exactly something I trust.” Jamie dead-panned, glancing at the clock and realizing he would be late for first period (and his chemistry test) if he didn’t leave like _now._ Half his grade depended on that test. Jamie shuffled his feet, angry at himself for actually considering taking Pitch up on his offer.

            “Deal?” Pitch asked again, and Jamie narrowed his eyes at the taller man.

            “What do you get out of this?” He asked, and Pitch shrugged.

            “Something to do other than hide underground.” The Nightmare King replied simply. Jamie took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair again.

            “Fine. But if I come home and you’ve done _anything_ to hurt Jack, I’ll--”

            “You’re late.” Pitch interrupted, and Jamie’s eyes shot to the clock.

            “Crap!” The teen ran out the door, sending a suspicious glance back at Pitch before shutting the door. Pitch pulled back the living room curtain and watched Jamie’s car pull out onto the street, then headed up to the boy’s room, where Jack was digging through Jamie’s stuff and completely disinterested in the cartoon playing on the TV.

            “Pitch!” The boy exclaimed happily, abandoning a case of colored pencils and running up to the Boogeyman with a grin. Pitch was bewildered by the child’s affectionate behavior, especially considering how eager Jack’s normal self always was to avoid him. That was most of the reason he’d offered to watch the boy. The other bit was not wanting to be alone in his lair anymore, but if you asked him Pitch would deny it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch's day watching Jack:

**_7:50 AM_ **

 

            At first Jack had gone back to exploring Jamie’s room, but when he found a set of colored Sharpies, Pitch dutifully confiscated the markers before Jack could make a mess of himself. The boy pouted, trying to jump up to steal the markers back, and Pitch held them aloft, trying to think of ways to occupy their time that wouldn’t involve the Bennett family coming home to a ruined household.

            Placing the marker set atop Jamie’s dresser, Pitch turned back to Jack, who was glaring at the older spirit with a pout only a toddler could ever pull off. Pitch wondered if it wouldn’t be better to let the little winter sprite wreak havoc, but he eventually pushed that thought away.

            “Shall we play a game?” Pitch asked, and Jack nodded excitedly. “What game would you like to play?”

            The young winter spirit sat down cross-legged on the carpet and began to think.

                   

 

**_8:02 AM_ **

 

            Jack suppressed a giggle as he closed the kitchen cupboard behind him, curling his knees up to his chest and hugging them, trying to make himself as small as possible. He kept his breathing quiet, eyes on the cupboard door, waiting for Pitch to come looking for him.

            Suddenly, Jack was drawn backwards into the shadows. They enveloped him in their darkness, delivering him straight into the living room; into Pitch’s arms. The child squirmed, shrieking happily when Pitch began to tickle his sides, wriggling his way out of the Nightmare King’s grasp with a laugh and looking up to see Pitch smiling in an almost fatherly way.

            Pitch’s smile quickly turned to a frown as a long-forgotten memory stirred somewhere in his mind, only to settle down again, unremembered. Pitch shook it off, turning his thoughts back to the present and looking down at Jack. The boy was staring up at him with an irate expression.

            “What?” Pitch asked.

            “No sadows. Tha’s cheating.” Jack stated matter-of-factly.

            “There is nothing in the rules of hide-and-seek that states one may not use shadows in gameplay.” Pitch countered, but Jack’s scowl only grew as he tugged insistently on Pitch’s robe.

            “No sadows! You hafta _find_ me!” The white-haired boy whined, and Pitch gave an exasperated sigh.

            “Fine. No shadows this round.” He promised reluctantly, pointedly ignoring the dubious stare Jack was giving him. He turned his back on the boy and closed his eyes, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to count: “One. Two. Three…”

            He heard the pitter of Jack’s tiny feet run down the hallway, and tried to listen over the sound of his own voice for squeaking stairs, but heard nothing.

            “Twenty-nine. Thirty.” Pitch finally finished, heading in the direction he’d seen Jack go. Searching every room on the first floor before eyeing the steps, Pitch was about to start on his way upstairs when a tiny noise came from one of the rooms behind him—one of the ones he’d already looked in, he noted with a small frown.

            It was a miniscule noise, just barely more than a breath; the sound of fabric rustling not-quite-silently. Pitch went back into the laundry room, where he thought the sound had come from, and his golden eyes swept over the small space, searching for any sign that Jack was there.

            Pointless to check the washer and dryer, Pitch thought, as opening and closing them would have made much more noise. There was no space behind the appliances for even the smallest of children to worm into, and the laundry hamper was full, no room for the missing boy. So where on earth…? Pitch leaned over to check behind the washing machine—just in case—and when he found nothing and went to stand back up, a glimpse of red caught his eye on the other side of the room. He made his way around to the dryer, finding a small pile of clothing stuffed carelessly behind the machine. Realization crept into his head, and he turned to face the laundry hamper.

            “There you are.” Pitch said triumphantly as he pulled the top layer of laundry out of the basket, finding little Jack curled up underneath. “Very tricky, Frost.”

            Jack grinned and clambered out of the basket, reaching upwards like he wanted Pitch to pick him up. The Boogeyman hesitated only for a millisecond before scooping the boy into his arms again, trying to hold Jack on his hip but failing drastically due to the frost sprite’s squirming.

            “Up.” Jack said the word like a complaint, and Pitch raised one almost-eyebrow at the boy in bemusement.

            “You are ‘up’.” He told his young companion, but Jack shook his head vigorously, still wiggling.

            “Up!” Jack repeated, trying to use Pitch’s sleeve to pull himself around to the older spirit’s back…oh.

            “You want to sit on my shoulders?” Jack nodded eagerly, grinning as Pitch hoisted him up. He sat atop Pitch’s shoulders with his arms wrapped nearly-too-tightly around the Nightmare King’s neck, while Pitch held the boy’s ankles.

            “Go, go!” The child ordered, leaning all his weight to the left so Pitch would walk in the direction Jack wanted him to. Rolling his eyes dramatically, the Boogeyman obliged, walking wherever Jack told him to and going on a long adventure through the house, complete with imaginary enemies that the two of them swiftly vanquished. And it wouldn’t be an adventure without pirates.

            “I was once a pirate, long ago.” Pitch said, half to himself, when Jack had finished telling him about the evil fire-pirates in the Bennetts’ dining room that wanted them to walk the plank.

            “Were you a fire-piwate?” Jack asked suspiciously, bending over upside-down so that he could look Pitch in the eye.

            “No.” The Nightmare King said curtly, lifting Jack from his shoulders and placing the boy on top of the dining table. “I was a space pirate.”

 

**_9:00 AM_ **

****

            As Jack listened attentively, Pitch told his tale. A magnificent story of space pirates and moonbots, of wizards, thieves, and flying djinni, of Pooka and falling stars and all sorts of other things most people now deemed impossible. While Pitch talked, Jack moved around the living room, unable to keep still but always listening closely. Sometimes the boy would sit next to Pitch on the couch, or perch on the back of it, and sometimes he would wander about the room, acting out the story as Pitch told it. The Nightmare King even went so far as to retell the more recent parts of the story; the parts that included Jack, finishing (most definitely _not_ bitterly) with Pitch’s own defeat.

            “Tha’s not a weal stowy.” Jack said unsurely from where he was standing in front of the sofa, narrowing his eyes at Pitch as if trying to deduce whether the older spirit was lying.

            “I assure you it is, in fact, a true story.” Pitch defended, but Jack just narrowed his eyes further.

            “But you’re not a bad-guy.” The boy finally declared, and Pitch chuckled mirthlessly, almost melancholically, and leaned closer so he could look Jack in the eye.

            “I am very much a ‘bad-guy’.” He told the child, and Jack frowned, obviously displeased with the statement.

            “I wanna play ouside.” Jack said after a moment, changing the subject the only way he knew how.

            Pitch hesitated, glancing out at the pale winter sunlight with both disdain and just the slightest bit of anxiety, but when Jack ran out the back door Pitch had little choice but to follow. He stuck to the shadows, watching Jack’s attempts to climb the tree in the Bennetts’ backyard from his place in the shade by the house.

            The boy quickly grew tired of trying to climb the tree, and instead went to the fence, covering it in a thin layer of frost so that he could draw just as he’d done yesterday. Dragging his tiny fingers over the frost, Jack swiftly drew pictures from the story Pitch had just told him, all of them simple scribbles, yet it was easy enough for the Nightmare King to understand what they were supposed to be.

            Pitch went over to help, adding details that Jack left out and writing small captions underneath to help the story along, while Jack drew entire scenes in that squiggly-lined way most young children have.

 

**_10:16 AM_ **

****

            Jack and Pitch looked over their work, proudly examining the fence, which was now entirely covered in frost-drawn stories. No bare wood remained; it had all been written and drawn on until the pictures formed a complete tale.

            “I think we did rather well.” Pitch allowed himself a small smile as he looked down at Jack, who was nodding affirmation. The child tugged of Pitch’s sleeve until the tall man leaned down, at which point Jack whispered in Pitch’s ear hopefully. “I highly doubt that giving you ice-cream would be beneficial to what remains of my sanity.”

            “But I _want_ ice-cweam.” Jack said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting until the Boogeyman finished thinking it over.

            “Only a bit.” Pitch finally relented, and Jack jumped up into the air with a joyous yell of triumph. They went back inside, and Pitch opened the Bennetts’ freezer, finding three different tubs of ice-cream inside, two of them nearly empty and one newly opened. “What kind--”

            “Mint! Mint! Mint!” Jack interrupted, pointing to the tub of mint chocolate-chip. Seeing as there was little left anyway, Pitch handed the tub to the boy and went about finding a spoon. Pitch was closing the freezer when he caught Jack looking at him bewilderedly. “You don’t wanna have some?” The child asked. Pitch shook his head.

            “Much too sweet for my liking.” He explained, and Jack nodded slowly.

            “Jamie has coffee stuffs, too.” Jack pointed to a cupboard. “Coffee stuffs to eat when he gets sleepy and needs to wake up. Like last night.”

            Perplexed by the notion that Jamie would be _eating_ coffee, Pitch opened the cupboard to find out what Jack was talking about. A small bag of dark-chocolate covered coffee beans stared back at him, and Pitch slyly plucked the bag from the shelf, picking out one of the chocolates and popping it into his mouth before returning the bag to its place. It was much better than ice-cream, in Pitch’s opinion.

            Pitch waited patiently for Jack to finish his ice-cream, sneaking glances at the cupboard out of the corner of his eye too many times to count.

 

**_12:31 PM_ **

****

            The chocolate-covered coffee beans were now gone, though Pitch made Jack take a solemn oath never to tell anyone what happened to them. The living room was a mess of stuffed animals and other toys taken from Sophie’s room, and Jack was curled up on the couch, fast asleep, a bit of sticky green ice-cream still decorating his mouth and chin, while the Nightmare King sat next to him with one of Jamie’s novels from the library.

            Pitch became more and more interested in the book the more he read, but he was not so engrossed as to be deaf to the world…at least, not yet. So he noticed, quite puzzled, when Jack began to whimper in his sleep. Pitch saw no Nightmares, no shadows or sand to suggest the child was dreaming at all, good or bad. But the child’s eyes were scrunched tightly closed, and he was shivering as if he were cold, which didn’t make any sense for a frost sprite. Pitch ran a comforting hand through the boy’s hair, making gentle _shush_ ing noises in an attempt to quiet Jack. It didn’t work.

            With a sudden start Jack jolted awake, his wide eyes looking all about the room in a panic as he began to cry. Without thinking, Pitch drew the toddler closer to his side, holding the boy close like parents so often do, rocking side to side ever so slightly in the hopes that it might help Jack calm down.

            “What happened?” He asked the little winter spirit gently.

            “It was cold.” Jack mumbled. “And dark. And it was so scawy.” He sniffled, cuddling closer to Pitch.

            Pitch almost chuckled at the irony of a child coming to him for comfort after a nightmare. But he didn’t. He simply held Jack close, waiting until the boy went back to sleep to pick up his book again.

 

**_1:09 PM_ **

****

            “Stay still, Frost!” Pitch growled, trying to wipe the ice-cream off of Jack’s face with a paper towel. And failing because of how much the boy was moving about. Despite having a tight hold on the child’s wrist, Pitch could’t get him to sit still enough to clean off the sticky green mess. He eventually managed to clean off most of the ice-cream, then gratefully released Jack’s arm, and the boy rushed out of the kitchen. Pitch threw the paper towel away and followed, finding Jack digging through a small shelf next to where the TV was set up.

            “What’re these?” Jack inquired, pulling a couple of movies off the shelf.

            “Movies. You watch them on the television, I believe.”

            “Watch?” Jack looked incredulously at the movie cases in his hands, not comprehending.

            “They’re like…stories. The story happens on the screen and you watch instead of listen.” Pitch explained. Jack’s eyes lit up, and he held one of the movies out to Pitch.

            “I wanna see.”

            “I don’t know how to set them up.” Pitch says with a shake of his head, but Jack is still holding the movie case out to him. “I’ll try to figure it out.”

 

**_2:47 PM_ **

****

Jack was crouched like a gargoyle on the arm of the couch, watching Peter Pan (which it had taken Pitch over a half hour to get started). Pitch was back to reading, looking up at the screen every once and a while when something exciting happened. During a less eventful scene, Jack hopped down from his perch and walked across the couch cushions to lean over Pitch’s shoulder, looking at the novel.

            “Wha’s your stowy about?” The little boy asked curiously, and Pitch held the book up so Jack could see the cover.

            “It’s about a big fight.” Pitch replied simply, not wanting to go into the details with a child as young as Jack was now, and not wanting to stop reading. _The_ _Hunger_ _Games_ wasn’t something Pitch wanted to get distracted from. “Watch your movie.”

            Jack complied, sitting cross-legged on the couch next to his babysitter and turning his attention back to the film. He didn’t speak any more until the movie was over, at which point he bugged Pitch to play hide-and-seek with him again until the Nightmare King reluctantly put down his book.

            “ _No sadows._ ” Jack reminded gravely.

 

**_3:10 PM_ **

****

            Jamie pulled up to his family’s house and noticed with relief that his mother’s car wasn’t there yet. She was still at work, then. He hopped out of the car with Sophie right behind him, _still_ muttering about how she couldn’t believe he’d left Jack with Pitch, of all people—spirits—whatever. Jamie ignored her and unlocked the front door. Jamie didn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but seeing the living room floor dotted with Sophie’s stuffed animals and the disc for Peter Pan lying atop the DVD player (which was still on, along with the TV) was most certainly _not_ it. And were those mint ice-cream stains on the carpet?

            “What the hell?” Jamie said under his breath, closing the door then crossing the room to turn off the television and DVD player. Sophie dropped her backpack by the door, following her brother into the room and picking up toys as she went.

            “Looks like Jack had fun.” She commented, almost disbelievingly, just as a familiar tickle of fear poked at her consciousness. She spun around at the same time as Jamie, finding Pitch standing in the doorway. Alone.

            “Where’s Jack?” Jamie said, alarm and accusation both evident in his voice.

            “Hiding, I should think.” Pitch said nonchalantly. “That _is_ what one does during a game of hide-and-seek.”

            The Bennett siblings shared a look that clearly said “this can’t be real; this is too weird to be real.”

            “You guys are playing hide-and-seek?” Sophie asked, and Pitch gave a curt nod.

            “He was very insistent that I find him the normal way and _not_ with shadows.” Pitch rolled his eyes.

            “Riiiiiight.” Jamie cleared his throat awkwardly. “So did you guys only destroy the living room or do I need to be worrying about the rest of the house, too?”

            “Only the living room.” Pitch assured him. “Although Jack dumped some colored pencils out in your bedroom. And the laundry hamper got overturned.”

            “Piiitch.” Jack wandered in from down the hall, tugging at Pitch’s robe irately. “You gotta come find me!”

            “There isn’t much point if you do not stay hidden.” Pitch pointed out, tapping the boy on the nose while the Bennetts looked on with disbelief.

            “Sophie, you clean up these toys, I’ll go take care of the laundry.” Jamie said after a minute, and his sister nodded, watching Pitch out of the corner of her eye as she finished picking up the stuffed animals that’d been left out. Muttering under his breath, Jamie left the room.

            “So Jack,” Sophie turned to the toddler, “What did you and Pitch do today? Besides hide-and-seek.”

            “Made pictuwes ouside,” Jack told her, “And eated ice-cweam, and watched a movie, and Pitch told me a stowy about space piwates.”

            “Sounds exciting.” Sophie smiled, glancing up at Pitch to find that he was smiling too.

            Jamie came back into the room just as his sister was leaving to put her stuffed animals away. Looking over the living room, he noticed again the pale green spots on the floor and went to get paper towels from the kitchen so he could clean them up.

            “So, thanks, I guess.” He said to Pitch as he scrubbed at the stained carpet. The Boogeyman quirked one not-eyebrow.

            “You guess?” He asked with mock solemnity, trying to hide a smirk.

            “Well, not for letting Jack spill ice-cream on the floor, or for leaving the TV on, but yeah. Thanks for watching him.”

            Pitch didn’t respond, only smiled a tiny half-smile and turned away, ready to slip away through the shadows as he so often did, when they heard a familiar voice call Jamie’s name from the backyard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took a bit long. My laptop has been out of commission since Easter and I just got it back today. :P But anyway, here's the end of the story. ^_^ I hope you like it okay.

            “Jamie! We figured it out!” Tooth called again, flitting up to the bedroom window, three mini fairies in tow. Finding no one inside, she flew back down to knock on the back door, flittering in circles with her mini fairies until the door finally opened. Jamie emerged, glancing nervously between the room behind him and Tooth.

            “Hey, Tooth. Where are the others?” Jamie asked, clearing his throat awkwardly and glancing back again, blocking the doorway with his body to block her view of the house’s interior.

            “North was too busy. Sandy and Bunny are waiting for us in the Warren.” She answered slowly, trying to see past him into the house and switching the snow globe she’d been holding from hand to hand. One of her fairies flitted forward and over Jamie, ignoring his protests, then let out an alarmed squeak. Tooth gasped at her fairy’s panicked chatter and pushed past Jamie. In the house, she saw Pitch, who was hurriedly walking backwards to escape being poked in the eye by the irate mini fairy, and Jack, who was trying to get Pitch away from the fairy by pulling on his robe. Needless to say, it was hindering more than helping.

            Tooth whistled sharply, and the tiny fairy reluctantly returned to her side with the other two. Then Toothiana turned on Jamie, arms crossed over her chest (still holding the snow globe) while she waited for an explanation.

            “I had to go to school, and I didn’t have a way to reach you guys. Pitch offered to watch Jack while I was gone.” Jamie looked a bit sheepish. Turning around to face the Nightmare King, who’d by now scooped tiny Jack into his arms, Tooth stared dubiously at him.

            “Hi, Tooth.” Sophie greeted as she entered the room, but she fell silent very swiftly after noticing the angry staring contest going on between the fairy and the Boogeyman.

            “Tooth?” Jamie tapped the fairy’s feathered shoulder lightly, and her enraged gaze finally moved away from Pitch, only to land on Jamie.

            “How could you leave Jack with him?” She asked incredulously, and Jamie ran a hand through his hair anxiously, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for a sufficient answer.

            “Oh, please.” Pitch scoffed, setting Jack down. The little boy walked over to where Sophie was holding her arms out for him, while Pitch watched. Then the Nightmare King turned back to Tooth, ‘ _eyebrows’_ raised in questioning. “He’s fine, isn’t he?”

            “Well, yes, but--” Tooth broke off, stammering a moment before falling silent and staring at the globe in her hands. “Never mind.”

            “You said something about the Warren?” Jamie said, hoping to change the subject.

            “Yes. We spent all night searching for someone who knew what to do about this, and we finally found a coven of witches who—grudgingly-- told us how to reverse it. I think they’re the ones who did it in the first place, though.” Tooth frowned. “Anyway, North had to get back to work, and my mini fairies are still working, of course, but Bunny doesn’t have much work to do this time of year and Sandy can work from long distances, so we decided the safest place to reverse the spell would be the Warren, and--”

            “Okay, thanks Tooth.” Sophie interrupted before the fairy could keep talking. Sometimes once Toothiana got talking it was difficult to get her to stop. “Can we come too? Haven’t been to the Warren in a while.” The girl pouted pleadingly, and without even a moment’s hesitation Tooth agreed.

            “I was actually going to ask you to come anyway.” The feathered woman said to Sophie and Jamie.

            “I’m guessing that invitation does not extend to me.” Pitch said flatly, and with a polite nod goodbye to Jamie and Sophie and a brief glare directed at Tooth, the Nightmare King stepped into the nearest shadow and disappeared.

            “Pitch!” Jack wriggled down from Sophie’s arms and ran over to where Pitch had slipped away, stomping his foot angrily on the ground and glaring at the carpet. Pouting angrily, the toddler returned to Sophie’s side, clinging to her pants leg and staring with annoyed expectancy at the carpet, as if he expected it to spit Pitch back out into the living room.

            “Let’s go, then.” Tooth said, feathers finally smoothing down a bit from how ruffled they’d been; the Bennett kids had hardly noticed, but Tooth and her accompanying mini fairies had all puffed out their feathers during the staring contest with the Boogeyman. Toothiana tossed the snow globe and flew up to the portal, shooting a glance over her shoulder to make sure the others were following before flitting through.

            Sophie detached Jack from her leg and hopped through, and Jack ran to Jamie, who held the boy’s hand as they stepped into the swirling portal. They emerged in the Warren, all except Tooth struggling to regain their balance. When Jamie stopped stumbling and could stand up straight again, he looked around to see Sandy waving cheerfully at them, and Bunny crouched on the ground drawing weird symbols in the dirt, glancing every so often at the paper he clutched in one paw as if for reference.

            “So what do we do to get Jack back to normal?” Jamie asked, and Sandy’s dream sand twirled into a series of shaped that Jamie could only half-decipher. Something about the symbols on the ground and a candle and sleep? Jamie didn’t know. But he nodded just the same to avoid irritating the Sandman.

            Once Bunnymund had finished copying the symbols from the paper, they formed a circle, which Jack was instructed to sit in the middle of. The boy did, grudgingly, but only stopped moving around once he was given an egg to play with. The tiny thing ran in circles around him, and Jack giggled, picking it up and letting it crawl on his arms. He wasn’t sitting still, exactly, but it was close enough for the other Guardians. They lit five candles and placed them equidistance from each other around the circle, then Bunny and Sandy looked at Tooth expectantly, as if waiting for her to say something.

            “Traditionally this is done by a coven, or sometimes a circle…” Tooth started, the hopeful look in her eyes clueing Jamie in before the fairy had a chance to finish.

            “Are you kidding me?” He asked incredulously. “You want us to form a coven?”

            “…Sort of?” Tooth twiddled her thumbs awkwardly. “We need at least three people to say the counter-spell. That’ll undo the curse that’s on Jack. They don’t have to be trained witches; just so long as one is somehow magical it’s fine. A circle joins individuals’ magic together. North would’ve been perfect to lead since he’s actually been trained by a wizard, but he was already behind so he couldn’t come…” Toothiana trailed off, frowning slightly and staring thoughtfully at the ground.

            “I’ll do it!” Sophie said eagerly, raising her hand and jumping up and down excitedly. Jamie opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it again when he caught sight of his little sister’s determined expression. There was no way he’d be able to talk her out of this one.

            “You sure, Soph?” He finally asked, his frown deepening when she nodded vigorously.

            “Okay. Me, Bunny, and Sophie, then.” Tooth nodded satisfactorily, going to Sophie’s side to direct the girl to stand in a certain spot.

            “We only need three?” Sophie asked, and Tooth fluttered unsurely.

            “Well, the more there are involved the more power there is, but the minimum is three so it’ll do.” The fairy smiled.

            “What about Jamie? He could be a fourth!” Sophie grinned slyly at her brother, who opened and shut his mouth like a guppy a few times, much to Sophie’s amusement.

            “How ‘bout it?” Bunnymund asked the young man, and Jamie slowly nodded.

            “Okay.” Jamie muttered, moving to where Tooth directed him on the outside of the circle.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            Jack yawned and rolled onto his back, stretching as he started to wake up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows, looking groggily around the room. And it was a room, sort of. It was like a small room dug out of the ground, furnished with only a few large rocks with candles on top, like tables, and the huge pile of soft green moss Jack was currently sitting on. It was warm too, a bit too warm for Jack’s liking.

            _Where am I?_ He wondered, even as a tiny part of his brain realized where he must be. He looked around for his staff, but didn’t see it, and he frowned. Standing up and heading down the narrow tunnel leading out of the room, Jack emerged into another room, this one larger and more furnished so that it almost looked like a living room.

            “Hey, Frostbite!” Bunny greeted from another doorway. “Heard your footsteps all the way from outside.”

            “What part of the Warren is this?” Jack wondered aloud, even though he already suspected the answer.

            “The burrow. My…house…I suppose.” Bunny shrugged.

            “How did I get here?” Jack asked, holding a hand to his aching head.

            “You don’t remember?” Bunny didn’t sound all that surprised.

            “I—I can remember something. But it’s fuzzy. I was…little?” Jack scrunched up his face in confusion. “I was a little kid…and I was at Jamie’s house I think.” Then his memories came back all at once, still fuzzy but clear enough to understand what had happened.

            “Remember now?” Bunny chuckled at the wide-eyed look Jack had just displayed.

            “I think so. How long was I asleep?”

            “About 24 hours. You should go see North, he’ll want to know you’re alright. And he’s got your staff.”

            Jack slumped with relief upon hearing that his staff had not been abandoned somewhere for him to find. He asked Bunny to open him a tunnel to the workshop, and the Pooka obliged, which ended with Jack startling quite a few elves upon emerging on the other end of the tunnel.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            “North!” Jack knocked on the man’s door again, even louder this time, in the desperate hopes of being heard over the loud music and the noise of ice being sculpted with coming from inside. Finally the noise stopped, and the door opened a moment later. Jack’s attempts to avoid North’s bear hug were for naught, and soon the boy was getting the air crushed out of his lungs.

            “Jack! So glad to see you back to normal.” The larger man boomed, patting Jack on the back perhaps with a bit more force than was necessary.

            “Thanks.” Jack said distractedly, trying to see past North. “Bunny said you have my staff?”

            “Ah! Yes, I have staff. In here.” North motioned for Jack to follow him to where the winter sprite’s staff was tucked safely on a shelf, high enough that the elves couldn’t reach it.

            Jack’s next stop was Jamie’s house.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            “Jamie! Sophie!” Jack tapped at their bedroom windows, which both promptly opened.

            “Jack!” Sophie grinned. “It worked!”

            “Yeah, it worked. I wanted to…” Jack trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly as he landed on the edge of the roof where both Bennett kids could see him.

            “You wanted to…?” Jamie prompted, a sly grin curling his lips upward. Jack narrowed his eyes at the brunet.

            “I wanted to thank you guys. For…what you did.”

            “You mean for babysitting you after you got yourself cursed by some spell-happy witches?” Jamie supplied helpfully, and Jack blushed with embarrassment. Or Jamie thought it was a blush; Jack turned more blue than pink. “And for forming a freaking circle to reverse it?”

            “Yeah.” Jack laughed halfheartedly and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

            “You’re welcome.” Sophie chirped. “It was cool doing magic.” She waved a happy goodbye to Jack and closed the window.

            “Have you thanked Pitch yet?” Jamie almost snickered at how Jack cringed at the idea.

            “No.” The white-haired Guardian finally admitted. Jamie bit his lip, uncertainly debating in his head whether he should say it, then,

            “You should go thank him, I think.” Jamie wanted to take back the words as soon as he said them, but it was too late. Jack was nodding in agreement already.

            “You’re right. I probably should.” Jack waved at his friend as he took off toward the lake.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

            Jack barely managed to catch himself from hitting the stony ground of Pitch’s lair, looking up at the tiny pinprick of light that was the afternoon sky. Staff clutched tightly in his hands, the winter sprite headed into the darkness, calling Pitch’s name and trying to ignore the prickle of fear in his mind. Nightmares peered at him, always just visible from the corner of his eye, as he walked the empty hallways of Pitch’s home, but Jack paid them no more attention than to keep himself poised to defend against an attack. He really should have expected the attack to come from below.

            Jack yelped with surprise as ropes of shadow tightened around his ankles, dragging him into the air sharply so that he was hanging upside down. His staff clattered to the ground, just inches out of reach.

            “Dammit!” The frost spirit muttered under his breath, reaching out for the shepherd’s crook, but his fingers didn’t even brush the wood. Hanging by his feet in the dark, without his staff, Jack felt suddenly vulnerable, and he stared out into the shadows with wide eyes, waiting for something to come flying out at him. Instead he saw a pair of bored-looking yellow eyes.

            “What do you want, Frost?” Pitch snarled.

            “Oh, nothing. I just wandered in for no reason.” Jack replied sarcastically, and Pitch’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you think I’m here, you stupid shadow?”

            “If I knew that, would I be asking you?” The Nightmare King hissed menacingly, slithering out of the shadows but still looking like one. He curled in on himself almost catlike, still staring at Jack with a suspicious and irate gaze. Jack rolled his eyes as the mass of shadows shifted and slithered like a nest of vipers.

            “I came to say thanks.” The winter sprite said, and Pitch froze, blinked a few times as if trying to comprehend what he’d just heard.

            “You…” Pitch trailed off, then his eyes narrowed again, and he shook off the shadows that had enveloped him, becoming a solid figure again and stepping toward the pale boy in front of him.

            “Can I get down now?” Jack implored, and Pitch snapped his fingers. Jack dropped to the ground with a thud. “Ow.”

            “Why would you need to thank me?” Pitch sniffed haughtily, trying to sound disinterested.

            “Because you…erm…you babysat me…while I was cursed.” Jack said sheepishly as he grabbed his staff and stood up. He didn’t mention how much he’d clung to Pitch as a toddler, or how fatherly Pitch had acted toward him. Not that it would have mattered what he said, those facts were still hanging in the air between them, conspicuous as a couple of neon green elephants.

            “I was bored; you offered a distraction from boredom.” Pitch shrugged. “You needn’t thank me.”

            “I didn’t know people still said stuff like ‘needn’t’.” Jack mocked with a grin, and Pitch scowled at the Guardian.

            “If a thank you was your only reason for coming here then you have no more reason to be bothering me.” The Boogeyman snapped, opening a shadowy doorway in the wall, but Jack made no move to leave.

            “You haven’t said ‘you’re welcome’ yet.” Jack pointed out with a mocking grin, and Pitch rolled his eyes, sighing overdramatically.

            “Fine. You’re welcome, Jack.” Pitch gestured with both arms toward the door, his meaning clear. Jack went to it, but stopped halfway over the threshold of the shadowy portal and looked back.

            “That story you were telling me about space pirates,” He started, still grinning, and Pitch raised one not-quite-eyebrow. “My memory’s a little fuzzy, so I don’t remember all the details of that story. Think you could remind me sometime?”

            “Jack, I was very much hoping you wouldn’t remember _any_ of that story. That’s why I decided to tell it to you in the first place; because I didn’t think you’d remember it anyway.” Pitch stated emphatically. “Now you expect me to tell it _again_?”

            “It was a good story.” Jack’s grin turned into a sly smirk. “But if that’s your decision…I’ll just have to get the Guardians to tell it to me.”

            “No!” Pitch shouted indignantly, repeatedly cursing himself as he clamped his mouth shut. “They’d tell it all wrong; mess up the facts.”

            “Is that so?” Jack asked with mock solemnity. Pitch glared.

            “Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you the story.” He said after a moment’s pause, pretending not to notice Jack’s victory leap. “But on one condition.”

            “Yeah?” Jack frowned slightly. Truth was Pitch didn’t have a condition, so he blurted the first thing that came to mind.

            “You have to bring me a bag of dark chocolate-covered coffee beans.”

            Jack laughed, the noise echoing in the cavernous space of Pitch’s lair.

            “Deal.” Said the winter sprite once he’d finished laughing, and he disappeared through the shadow door provided to him, returning to the surface and flying away with a grin.

            Enwrapped in shadows, Pitch thought over his decision to tell Jack his story again. He thought it over dozens of times. But never once did he regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't add in all of the ritual for reversing the curse, mainly because I know my coven would be mad as hell if I gave our secrets to mortals.


End file.
